I open the bedroom door, expecting the hallway to be empty—but of course it isn’t, because the universe is a cruel and petty bitch.
Poppy is standing there.
Dressed up.
Wearing heels, high-waisted jeans, and a white long sleeve tee that does absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she is,without question, the most attractive person I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Her hair is done. Shiny. Bouncy like a shampoo commercial.
My pulse kicks up. My mouth goes dry. And my body reacts before my thoughts can catch up.
Christ.
She’s my roommate.
"Hey," her glossy lips say as she blinks her long lashes at me. They’re black and the longest I’ve ever seen.
"Hey."I immediately forget how to formulate sentences.
She glances at my outfit. I glance at hers.
My eyes catch the shape of her narrow hips, the dip of her waist. Her slim, brown belt.
Her boobs.
"You heading out?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
“I am.” Her head tilts. “You?”
“Yeah.” I swallow. “You look nice.”
Gorgeous, in fact.
My roommate dips her head as if she’s embarrassed by my compliment. “Thanks. You look nice, too. Is it a date?”
The air between us shifts as she waits for my reply.
It’s heavy.
Electric.
We might both crackle if either of us takes a step closer.
“Uh—no. I’m going out with friends.”
She tilts her head slightly, her earrings catching the light. Her eyes—big, dark, unreadable—stay on mine longer than they should.
“Me too,” she says softly. “Nova and some friends. Sort of a welcome-to-town thing.”
Oh no.
My heart thuds in my chest, kicking up speed. "Where?"
“It’s a rooftop bar. I think it’s called Mile High Club on Fifth—but I have to double check again.”
Of course it is.
Goddamn, Luca, that double-crossing, matchmaking shit-stirrer.
